Chapter 4 - The Dead Man Who Wasn’t Dead
Nobody moved.
Misha stood in the doorway wearing dinosaur pajamas, looking eight years old and suddenly terrified of every adult in the room.
Vadim crossed to him.
“What did you say?”
Misha stepped backward.
That tiny movement stopped Vadim cold.
He softened his voice.
“Misha.”
“I saw Dad.”
Vadim crouched.
“Where?”
“The car.”
“The night you were hurt?”
Misha nodded.
“He was in the other car.”
Vadim’s face became unreadable.
“You’re sure?”
“He looked at me.”
“And then?”
“He yelled.”
“What did he yell?”
Misha started crying.
“I don’t know. Then Uncle Anton grabbed me and the door opened and I fell.”
Vadim looked at Anton.
Anton had gone pale.
“You told me the impact opened the door.”
“That’s what I believed.”
Vadim rose.
For the first time, I saw genuine uncertainty in him.
Not anger.
Fear.
Later, after Misha had gone back to bed, Vadim showed me a photograph.
Two younger men stood beside Lake Michigan.
One was unmistakably Vadim.
The other had the same eyes but an easier smile.
“Nikolai,” Vadim said. “My older brother.”
“How did he die?”
“Warehouse fire. Six years ago.”
“Did you see the body?”
Vadim was silent.
“No.”
That answer explained everything.
The following morning, he moved Cleo and me deeper into his world.
No hospital.
No preschool.
No apartment.
I fought him on all three.
I lost all three.
“You cannot suspend my life.”
“I can keep you alive long enough to get it back.”
I hated how easily he said things like that.
But then he did something I had not expected.
He gave me the code to the front gate.
“If you want to leave, nobody will stop you.”
I stared at him.
“Yesterday you said I couldn’t.”
“Yesterday I was afraid.”
“And today?”
“I’m still afraid.”
He handed me my car keys.
“But you were right. Protection without choice is another kind of prison.”
That was the first moment I trusted him.
Only a little.
It lasted six hours.
Then Evan Hale arrived at the gate.
He was furious.
“Reese!”
I saw him through the security monitor.
“How did he know I was here?”
Vadim looked at Anton.
Nobody answered.
Evan claimed the hospital had been calling me.
He said he had become worried.
He claimed he had tracked my phone.
“That’s impossible,” I said.
“Not if someone gave him access,” Anton replied.
Vadim wanted him removed.
I insisted on speaking with him.
We met in the courtyard with four guards watching.
Evan looked at Vadim with open disgust.
“You have no idea who this man is.”
“I have some idea.”
“No, Reese. You don’t.”
Then he produced documents.
Federal documents.
Vadim Sorokin was under investigation for racketeering, extortion, money laundering, and multiple suspected homicides.
My stomach turned.
Vadim did not deny any of it.
Evan stepped closer.
“Come with me.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“Someone threatened Cleo.”
“I can protect you.”
Vadim laughed once.
Evan turned.
“What’s funny?”
“You.”
“You think because you have armed men you’re untouchable?”
“No,” Vadim said quietly. “I think because you knew exactly where Reese was, you’re either very useful or very stupid.”
Evan lunged.
The guards moved.
I stepped between them.
“Enough!”
Then Evan whispered something.
Only I heard it.
“Ask him who killed Misha’s mother.”
My blood chilled.
Vadim’s expression told me he had heard anyway.
Evan left.
That evening, I confronted Vadim.
“Who killed your sister?”
“My sister?”
“Misha’s mother.”
Vadim stared at me.
“She was my sister-in-law. Elena.”
“What happened?”
“She was murdered.”
“By whom?”
“We believed a rival organization ordered it.”
“Believed?”
“Yes.”
“Evan thinks you did it.”
Vadim’s expression hardened.
“Evan wants you afraid of me.”
“Should I be?”
“Yes.”
The answer stole my breath.
Vadim approached slowly.
“You should always understand what I am capable of, Reese. What you should never fear is that I would use it against you or Cleo.”
“That’s supposed to reassure me?”
“No.”
His voice lowered.
“It’s supposed to be true.”
For several seconds we simply stared at each other.
Then Cleo screamed upstairs.
I ran.
We reached her bedroom together.
She was on the floor.
Her small hands were around her throat.
Her face was swelling.
My entire world stopped.
“Cleo!”
Allergy.
I grabbed the EpiPen from my bag.
Empty.
Not used.
Empty.
Someone had removed the medication.
“Call 911!”
Vadim was already moving.
Anton tore through the medical cabinet.
Nothing.
Cleo wheezed.
I felt the kind of terror that strips thought from the brain.
Then Vadim ripped open his desk drawer.
He pulled out an EpiPen.
I stared.
“Why do you have that?”
“Because Cleo stays here.”
I injected her.
Seconds crawled.
Then she gasped.
Air.
Beautiful air.
I held her while paramedics raced through the gates.
At the hospital, she stabilized.
I sat beside her bed shaking.
Vadim stood outside the room.
He would not come in.
I finally walked toward him.
“You saved her.”
“No.”
“You had the medication.”
“Someone got close enough to tamper with yours.”
His face was full of self-disgust.
“I brought danger to your child.”
“You also prepared for her allergy.”
He looked at me.
“I read everything.”
“I know.”
“For once, are you glad I did?”
A broken laugh escaped me.
“Yes.”
He touched my cheek.
Just once.
Then stopped himself.
My phone vibrated.
A text from an unknown number.
THE NEXT DOSE WON’T BE EMPTY.
Attached was a photograph.
Vadim’s office.
Taken from inside the mansion.
May you like
Someone in his house was betraying him.
And in the reflection of the office window, barely visible behind the photographer, stood Anton.
